Transcendence
by alldefandoms
Summary: 'I am looking for someone to share in an adventure.' Emi raised an eyebrow at him. 'Aye right, on your bike, is this how you're kidnapping kids these days? Well you can get lost, I am in no mood to be kidnapped today.' Fili/OC
1. In Which There Is An Unexpected Visitor

_"Adventure is allowing_

_the unexpected to happen_

_to you"_

_\- Richard Aldington_

* * *

When Emi woke up on that cold, Scottish morning, she hadn't the faintest idea that anything wonderful was going to happen. Looking out of her window from the comfort of her warm bed, she confirmed that today was in fact dreich, i.e., it was about as depressing as she felt looking at it. So, when she'd finally managed to haul herself out of bed, put on clothes that sort of went together, and run a hand through the short pile of coffee coloured curls on her head, she did not expect the doorbell to ring.

'Who the hell is at the door at 9 in the morning? Postman isn't here till 11, we aren't expecting any Amazon deliveries, nobody's due back till 4,' as she checked off her list on her fingers, the door rang again, this time a little more urgently, and she groaned, 'Of all the times for no one to be home but me. If I die, I'm going to kill myself.'

On her way to the door, she picked up a rolling pin, as she was suspicious of the unknown caller, and she placed it near the front door, out of sight from whomever it was, but still within reach in case she needed it. Turning the keys in the lock, she cursed it, as it was rather sticky and involved quite the bit of effort. Something she was not expecting to have to put in on her summer holidays. Giving a small victory cry when the blasted thing finally budged, she opened the door, and came face-to-face with-

'Gandalf?'

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and her lip pouted. What the heck was some randomer doing on her front steps dressed like Gandalf for. Feeling a pit form in the bottom of her stomach, she reached for the rolling pin, making sure the man couldn't see what she was doing.

'Uh, so what can I help you with?'

The Gandalf impersonator looked at her, a bright twinkle in his eye, and he smiled at her as he leaned on his staff, his grey robes billowing in the harsh wind, their colour darkened slightly due to the constant drizzle of rain.

'I am looking for someone to share in an adventure.'

Emi raised an eyebrow at him.

'Aye right, on your bike, is this how you're kidnapping kids these days? Well you can get lost, I am in no mood to be kidnapped today.'

Brandishing her 'weapon' in front of her, she was surprised to find the man laughing at her. Fear started to seep through her. Did this mean he was more than prepared to take her down? Or was he just plain crazy.

_Maybe he's a junkie? Oh man, I am _so_ not happy right now. Where can I press the panic button?!_

'My dear girl, I am not here to harm you, nor kidnap you. I am simply here to do what I stated before. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure.'

'What, and you think that someone is me?' Staring wryly at the man, she was beginning to lose her patience. Creeper or not, it was just after 9 o'clock on a Monday morning, and she hadn't had any form of breakfast yet. Mix that with exhaustion, and you've got a teenager on her last nerve.

Gandalf looked her up and down, with that same twinkle in his eye.

'Yes, I do believe you'll suffice. You have heard of the tale of Thorin Oakenshield, I presume.'

'Course, I have, who hasn't? They made a film series that ended a couple of years back, definitely not as good as the book but hey, at least they tried. So, what of it?'

The impersonator seemed to be growing as impatient as she was, because his body was beginning to fidget, and he tapped his staff on the ground before he spoke to her again.

'Well that is precisely my point, dear child,' Emi huffed at the child comment, 'I wish for you to aid the Company of Thorin Oakenshield in their quest to reclaim Erebor.'

Emi sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. As much as the guy looked like Sir Ian McKellen, she just wasn't feeling it this morning. While she had always held a fascination for magic and believed that it would be wonderful to have in the world, she was a scientist. And a realist. And she knew that this man, whomever he was, was most definitely _not _Gandalf the Grey. But he obviously needed some help, and she supposed she could struggle the time it would take to get him to a hospital.

_Maybe he's hit his head or something? Yeah, that's probably it._

'Hold on, let me get my keys.' What she had _meant_ by that statement, was that she would fetch her car keys, get in the car with this weirdo, drive him to the hospital, and be done with him. Maybe she would check up on him to see how he was doing and then that would be that. What _Gandalf_ took from that is that she was fully prepared to accept his terms, and would gladly join him on his quest, no questions asked.

'No need, dear girl, I have a much more proficient way of getting us there. Then let's be off, shall we?'

When she felt her arm being pulled, a primal instinct flared up in her and she turned around to punch the living daylights out of the guy, but in the time she'd taken to turn around, he had already banged his staff on the ground and the world had faded away to blinding light. It stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, before she finally began to see shapes, and then colours, and then objects, and then finally she saw the world as she had always seen it. Except this wasn't her world, and she had only seen places like this in movies.

Her mouth dropped to the floor, and her eyes widened. She couldn't be, she just couldn't be.

'I am going to ask you a question _Gandalf_, and I want you to answer me honestly,' her teeth gritted in frustration and fear and from the cold, 'Are we, or are we not, still in Scotland?'

'Well of course we're not, whatever use would you be there? No, no, Emilia, we are in Middle Earth.'

Emi began nodding her head.

'Ok. That's fine, that's perfectly logical.'

Gandalf smiled at her, seeming rather proud of himself and his handiwork.

'See, I knew you were the right person for the j-'

'I mean this is great, real great,' Gandalf slowly closed his mouth, his eyebrows falling in concern and confusion, as he watched the girl begin to pace about, 'I mean I've always dreamed about this, so this is great right? Absolutely peachy, couldn't be happier, I am just so so excited, can't wait to get started.'

Gandalf was beginning to worry about her, as she was now jumping up and down in puddles, and if he didn't know any better he would think she was having a nervous breakdown.

'Yes, but it's quite alright, because you wanted to help, did you not? I am sure you and the Company will get along swimming-'

He paused as she held up a finger at him, and he huffed slightly in indignation at the interruption.

'Hold on, one second. Did you think I was willing to come on this adventure?'

He shifted from side to side, unsure of why she was getting so upset, when she had so clearly expressed her interest to him before. Feeling a little frustrated at how uncooperative she was being, he puffed up his chest, and looked her sternly in the eye.

'Well of course, I did. Why else would I have taken you, I am not the kind of wizard who goes around _stealing_ people from other worlds. You made it quite known that you were willing when you went off to fetch your keys or whatever it was you wanted. And furthermore-'.

He was blustering through his sentences now, in a way that only old people can, his face taking on a red hue as he became more and more visibly upset with her. But to be honest, she didn't care. In fact, she hadn't been listening since he'd said: 'Of course'. Instead, she was running everything through her mind, trying to find some way that any of this wacky, fanciful tale made sense. And when she couldn't she thought maybe it was a dream, but she quickly discarded the idea, because she felt cold, and wet, and miserable, because as far away as they were from Scotland, they certainly weren't far away from its infamous weather, and she had never felt that way in a dream before. And so she settled on the only logical explanation that made sense. She was, in fact, in Middle Earth, and the man in front of her who was currently babbling on about goodness knows what, was indeed Gandalf the Grey, and that she would most likely be encountering a very famous group of dwarves pretty soon.

'-so, do you still wish to aid Thorin and his Company in their quest to reclaim Erebor?'

Now that made her think. Did she have what it took to help them? She was only a 5'2 and a half, 19-year-old girl, what aid could she possibly give? She didn't know how to fight, she couldn't wield a sword, she had a lazy eye, so archery probably wouldn't be likely, and she barely knew how to ride a horse. She supposed there was her knowledge of the movies, I mean she was by no means a casual fan, having marathoned the trilogy, _and_ the Lord of the Rings Extended Editions (more than once), read all the books, and written and read more than enough script-based fanfiction to have a good idea of what was going on. But when it came down to it, was she brave enough? It's not like she was a Gryffindor, always ready to jump in guns blazing, she was a Slytherin, and she couldn't lie and say that she didn't fear for her self at the mere thought of orcs and dragons. And then there was her life, her sister, her friends, her dog. Could she walk away from them? She pondered it for a long moment. It was a huge change, to enter a new world. To leave everything she had built up in her old life. But she _had_ always longed for adventure, to go out and travel, and have swordfights, and go on quests. And she had longed to see beautiful places, unmarred by human touch, and what better place was there than Middle Earth? Sure, she'd miss people like crazy, and she may even regret her decision later, but the more she puzzled the thought over in her head, the more excited she became.

Clenching her fists in determination, her nails digging into her palms, white crescents forming from the pressure, she stepped forward slightly.

'If you do not wish to help, I can take you ba-'

'I'll do it.'

Gandalf looked surprised at her statement, and then he nodded his head once, fiercely, as if he'd always known that that's what her decision would have been. He beckoned her towards him, and she took a place beside where he stood.

'So…now what?'

Gandalf chuckled at her, a deep chuckle filled with mirth, and any worries she felt were washed away with the rain, oozing out of her being and falling to the earth beneath her.

'Now…we head for the Shire. We have a burglar to recruit.'

* * *

**Hope you guys liked the first chapter, let me know what you think in the comments :)**


	2. In Which They Reach The Shire

_'And at the end of_

_the day, your feet should_

_be dirty, you hair messy_

_and your eyes sparkling.'_

_\- Shanti_

* * *

Any excitement she had had, left her the minute they started walking. Physical exercise was never her forte, and the fact that she was walking in marshland in socks, well sock, she'd lost the other one in the first step, and the rain, was enough to kill her mood quite violently. She didn't know how long they walked for, she only knew that she had lost her other sock, and after that she didn't care what was happening.

But walking gave her time to think, and that was something she was grateful for, because she needed to decide how much she could interfere with the story, and not kill off someone important in the process. For instance, she needed to think of a way to save Fili, Kili and Thorin, and she wasn't sure how much Gandalf expected of her, or how much he knew of the future. She presumed it was quite a bit more than he was letting on, however she knew he could not meddle with the affairs of Middle Earth, to put it simply he was only allowed to be a guide. So, did that mean he was also guiding her?

'Think any louder my dear, and they'll be able to hear you all the way in Bree.'

Feeling a little sheepish at his words, she opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it again, and then she decided she was being stupid and so she turned to Gandalf.

'I'm sorry, it's just…a lot to take in. I mean what exactly is it that I'm supposed to be doing here?'

His long fingers stretched up to stroke his beard, which she had to admit was even bushier and more impressive in person, and his face took on a wiser look, like a grandparent about to depart otherworldly knowledge on their unsuspecting grandchildren.

'You know how the story ends, do you not?,' Emi nodded her head yes, 'Well, I have brought you here to change it.'

Her eyes widened in surprise. She had expected she would be needed to help the dwarves fulfil what they were supposed to fulfil, but she hadn't thought Gandalf would be so black and white about it.

'Change it? You mean, save the line of Durin?'

'Precisely. With the story ending the way it should now, there is absolutely no point for the Company to set out, they in no way help to kill the dragon, and they end up dead, with Dain taking the throne. And as I have said before, and I will say it again, Thorin is the more reasonable of the two, _he_ is the rightful heir to the title of King Under the Mountain, and I wish to see the day he reclaims it.'

His eyes were wistful now, and he was obviously thinking about days gone by and days that could be, and she knew she would get no more information out of him until a later point in time. So, she thought some more, and some more, and some more, and then her brain started to hurt from it all and so she started singing little songs in her head to keep herself occupied, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could stand being inside her mind for. She was starting to become boring.

But still, they stumbled on, one foot in front of the other, albeit with some difficulty, she didn't lose her socks for no reason, and the only sounds that fell between them was the sound of squelching, and Emi thought she would lose her grip on her sanity if they didn't get there soon.

_I mean, he has the magic to bring me here, and he couldn't teleport us closer to where we're supposed to be? Some wizard, he is._

When they finally began to see smoke rising from the top of the hills, Emi squealed, a long, loud squeal that caused Gandalf to huff at her, and tell her to 'shut her mouth', but she saw the secret smile on his lips, and soon they were both laughing about it. It was dark when they arrived, and the tip of the sun could be seen starting to rise up, casting a warm glow over the world, and Emi realised she hadn't been paying attention to the sky around her, so for all she knew they could have been walking all night, which depressed her a little but it didn't last long, because this was the Shire, and bad thoughts couldn't be had here, not when there were hobbit homes, with round doors, and flowers exploding with colour all around her, like fireworks In the night sky, and everything smelt wonderful, and she couldn't remember a time where she had felt so at peace, so at home. The only thing missing, she decided was the movie soundtrack.

_Where's 'Concerning Hobbits' when you need it. _

She began skipping along beside Gandalf, there was no one around yet, the sun was only just stretching its arms as it woke from its slumber, meaning no one else needed to do so.

_Except me and Gandalf, of course. I need my sleeeeep._

The cobblestones beneath her feet were cool, and smooth, something she was grateful for, after all, she didn't have the luxury of hobbit feet, and hers were rather sensitive to the elements. They walked on, following the twisting roads and paths, up, up, and up the hill they went, the spring air becoming cooler and crisper, and Emi began to rub at the goose bumps that were forming on her arms. She could see more and more smoke tendrils starting to make an appearance from the various homes dotted about the countryside, a sure sign that there would be hobbits emerging soon.

At the thought of hobbits, a nervousness soon began to form in her stomach. She was mere moments away from meeting Bilbo Baggins. _The _Bilbo Baggins. Someone she'd only ever read about and seen in films. Someone who inspired her to be so much more, and here she was, a plain, ordinary girl, on her way to meet someone who had no idea how miraculous they were. I mean, where do you even begin?

'Good morning.'

Emi barely registered the voice, before she faceplanted into Gandalf's back, the smell of smoke, and pine, and mud filling her nostrils, causing her eyes to water and a violent sneeze to rack her small frame. Gandalf merely huffed and told her how foolish she was before turning around and continuing the conversation he had been having. Emi rubbed her nose with her arm and sniffed a couple of times. Peeking her head round the wizard's robes, she found her grey eyes locking with a very recognisable hobbit. The same recognisable hobbit that had caused her to walk into Gandalf in the first place.

Feeling a squeal rise in her throat, she swallowed it down, and instead settled for throwing a sheepish smile and a wave his way, which he politely returned.

_Bless him. He must think I'm mad._

Emi looked down at her clothes, her black leggings and Captain America t-shirt were completely covered in mud splashes, and grass and all other sorts of things and she covered her face in her hands.

_Some first impression. I look like a wild animal. _

A moment later, a hand found its way to the small of her back, and she twitched in surprise, already having suspicions of _whose_ hand it was, and she stumbled forward as she was moved to the front door of Bag End.

'Oh wow...' Her words were a mere whisper, carried away on the morning breeze, and her hand slowly reached out to touch the door, the wood feeling smooth beneath her fingertips.

She breathed out a small laugh, full of awe and wonder, and she pondered how she'd ever been lucky enough to end up here. Smells exploded her senses, flowers, food, and paint, causing an energy to fill her being to the core, and she decided she'd never felt more alive. And that was all the proof she needed that she was _meant _to be here. Eyes sparkling, she turned to Gandalf, and the wizard gave her a strange look before she enveloped him in a warm hug.

'Thank you. Thank you so very, very much.'

He awkwardly patted her back, before saying something along the lines of: 'Well it was your choice, my dear.', and then he gently pushed her off of him, and reached out his staff to carve the runes into the round green door of Bilbo Baggins. It was a shame, she thought, to mark something like that, but she knew that it was necessary.

Cocking her head to the side, as the wizard locked eyes with her, a small smile of satisfaction on his lips, she decided she had no idea what was supposed to happen now.

'Sooo, now what?'

Gandalf chuckled at her.

'Well, I suppose you must be hungry, yes?' As if on cue, Emi felt the oncoming rumble of her hungry stomach.

'Famished.'

He nodded at her.

'Well then, that settles it, we are off to eat breakfast, and I just so happen to know that there is a quaint little pub nearby.'

Emi very nearly fainted.

* * *

**Hope you all enjoyed, thanks for reading :)**


	3. In Which Bilbo Is A Little Put Out

"Every man can transform the world

from one of monotony and drabness

to one of excitement and adventure."

\- Irving Wallace

* * *

Bilbo Baggins was one very put out little hobbit. After his meeting with Gandalf and the strange girl with him, he had been unnerved since, after all, his conversation with the wizard had been nothing short of alarming. An adventure? Him? No, no, no, that sort of thing just didn't suit him at all. They were horrible, nasty, disturbing things, that took you away from the comforts of your home, and caused all sorts of unexpected trouble.

Still, he could not deny that the notion didn't fill him with excitement. Just imagine seeing the world and travelling, meeting new people and visiting places he'd only ever read about in his books. But, that would mean he would have to leave Bag End, and his fire, and his comfy bed, and that was something he could not bring himself to do.

So, he busied himself for the rest of the day, cleaning the house and tending to his garden, the whole thought of adventures going straight out of his head, that is, until he was sitting in his small home, surrounded by dwarves, who had eaten nearly two months rations of food in less than an hour, and he felt most unsettled. As such, when the door rang once more, he felt an anger rise up within him, one he usually reserved for the Sackville-Bagginses, and he stormed out of the kitchen, wrenched the door open, and was prepared to unleash his rage on the poor unsuspecting person on the other side, but he felt the wind leave him, and his fury subside, when his eyes locked once more with the grey orbs of the strange woman from earlier. She was wearing new clothes from the last time he had seen her, leather trousers and boots, a grey shirt, and a rather large jacket that accentuated her thin frame, and her face had taken on a warm glow, a smile spreading across her face as she leaned towards him, her hand outstretched to shake.

A little flustered, he thrust his hand forward, the force his hand made contact with hers, surprising her, but her smile only widened, and she shook it all the same. Something Bilbo was very grateful for, for there was something about this woman that he liked. A sort of odd fascination, if you will.

'I'm really, _really_ sorry to be barging in without an invitation, Mr Baggins. I hope we're not intruding.'

Her voice soothed any anger he had left, the sweet lilting softness of it, washing over him, and reminding him that there were people in this world who weren't loud and obnoxious like his current visitors.

'No, not at all, and please, call me Bilbo, miss…?'

'Emilia Hunter. But Emi for short.'

'Emi. What a wonderful name.' At this point Bilbo realised he was still blocking the door and so he jumped suddenly to the side, earning a small chuckle from her, and she walked tentatively forward, as if his decision was going to turn out to be false, and he'd slam the door in her face, laughing at how stupid she had been to believe him. As she entered his home, he saw her face light up, in a way he had never seen anyone do before. Her face made it seem as if she'd walked into a paradise, and not his home, and he'd be lying if he said his chest didn't puff out a little at that. Hobbits were very proud of their homes, and to see that this stranger, no, acquaintance of his, enjoyed his as much as he did, pleased him to no end.

It was at this point while he was distracted, that he remembered that she had told him 'we', and sure enough, when he turned back around, he was faced with Gandalf once more. He would have liked to have been polite and welcomed him, but he decided he didn't like the look in his eye. It was a look that told him that he was somewhat to blame, if not fully, for this whole thing, and so he simply gestured for him to enter and that was that.

Whilst all this was going on behind her, Emi was busy fangirling over every little thing happening around her, and she decided that she did not blame Bilbo one bit for not wanting to leave Bag End and set out on this adventure. She decided that if she had had the same choice to make, she would have told the dwarves to stuff it, and that they could find another burglar.

Stepping further into the home, at Bilbo's insistence, she found her hand reaching out once more, the feeling of wood on her skin reminding her that this was real, though she still had a hard time believing it. She had had the same doubts all throughout breakfast at the Green Dragon, much to Gandalf's chagrin, and even when he had handed her some clothes, she suspected he had a magic pocket in his robe that was rival to Mary Poppin's bag, for she had no clue where he would have gotten them otherwise, and she had put them on, seeing her reflection in the mirror, she still could not fathom that she was here.

_Well. Even if you aren't and this does turn out to be an elaborate dream, or a glitch in the Matrix or something, you should at least enjoy it, moron. _

Nodding in assurance, a sort of silent promise to herself that she would live each day here as if it were completely normal, she walked onwards and into the kitchen. An overwhelming feeling of horror filled her at the sight of the food fight the dwarves were having, her heart racing every time they threw something at each other, the mess triggering her perfectionist tendencies. She let out a low whistle.

'Man am I glad I insisted on eating before we came.'

Edging round the room, she found herself in sensory overload. There was so much noise, and smells, and sights, and it was all becoming a little too much to bear. Glancing over to see Bilbo walking in, the same look on his face, she felt a little relieved that she was not the only one not having fun.

_I mean, food fights are great and all, and I would totally join in, save for the fact that I'm pretty sure I'd end up with more bruises than the time I fell out of the trampoline backwards. Ah, good times._

When it reached the point that they were throwing ale all over themselves, Emi found that she had unconsciously moved closer to where Bilbo was standing, her hands clenched in annoyance at the complete and utter disrespect his 'guests' were displaying.

_If someone came into my house and did that, I think I'd pour myself a shot of bleach and to hell with them. _

'It's a mess.'

A small voice squeaked beside her, and it took her a couple of seconds to realise that it belonged to Bilbo. Patting him softly on the shoulder, in reassurance, he looked up at her with a look of such utter despair, that he fuelled a fire within her, and she decided that she would protect this poor, adorable hobbit until the day she died.

_I just want to squeeze him tight and tell him everything's going to be ok._

When an eerie silence fell in the house, both Bilbo and Emi craned their necks slowly to see the complete devastation of Bilbo's kitchen. The dwarves had finished the food, but there were bits of it everywhere, as if a mini explosion had gone off. There was food stuck to the wall, and on the ceiling, and on all of his drawers, and ale had been spilt all over the place, dripping off of every surface it clung to. And then, just as they had begun to think that that was the worst of it, there came a burp, one of the loudest Emi had ever heard, and then another joined, and another, and another, until it became an unlikely symphony. Emi let out a small sigh, and rubbed circles on her temples.

_This is going to be the longest fucking adventure of my life._

* * *

**Haha, surprise bitch, bet you thought you'd seen the last of me. **

**I just want to start by apologising for the huge delay in updating, but life being life, there's been a lot of distractions, and I can honestly say I had no time to think about this. But, I have quite a few chapters written so hopefully I can update more regularly and not disappoint you all further.**

**Thanks for reading,**

**alldefandoms**


	4. In Which Songs Are Sung

_'When a resolute young fellow steps up to the great bully,_

_the world, and takes him boldly by the beard,_

_he is often surprised to find it comes off in his hand,_

_and that it was only tied on to scare away the timid adventurers.'_

_\- Ralph Waldo Emerson_

* * *

After the dwarves had finished laughing at how _obviously_ hilarious gas releases were, Emi had taken to sitting in a small, _clean_, corner, her slender fingers reaching up to twirl the soft curls that rested on the crown of her head, effectively 'breaking' them, and causing them to frizz. She knew what was to happen next, and she didn't much fancy the idea of walking around whilst plates were being flung from one side of the house to another, _especially_ when the people carrying out said action were at most a foot smaller than her, something she still hadn't quite gotten used to, but was none the less delighted by.

_Yeah, so suck it tall people, with all your short jokes. Look who's the tall one now._

Pulling her knees to her chest, she giggled a little, a sort of sound that wasn't quite full of any feeling, and she suddenly realised how tired she was. She hadn't slept in what felt like years, and she didn't expect to find much sleep once she set out with the company, but she was determined to see the dwarves sing their songs, they were two of her favourites after all, and so she clenched her nails into her arm, and the long wait for sleep began.

Despite her earlier pact to stay awake, Emi couldn't stop her eyes from drooping as she sat, undisturbed, in her corner. In fact, she would have fallen asleep, if not for the loud yell that suddenly pierced the air, the suddenness of it causing her to jump.

'I don't understand what they're doing in my house!'

Blearily opening her eyes once more, and cursing to herself for letting them close in the first place, she looked up to find Bilbo glaring at Gandalf, his arms crossed in defiance, and the points of his ears tinted red.

_Aww, he's so cute when he's mad, with his little nose all scrunched up. Shit, wait…is this how tall people see me when I'm mad? No wonder they all just laugh._

Coming away from her internal hypocriticism, she sat up a little straighter, and twisted herself, satisfied when she heard the popping of her back, and relaxed a little more into the wall behind her.

'Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?'

'Here you go Ori, give it to me.'

Bolting upright at the exchange, Emi let out a low hum of delight at what she knew was to follow, and when she heard the familiar banging of cutlery on the tables, she felt an impish mirth fill her, and she wished she could be a part of the mischief.

'And, can-can you not do that? You'll blunt them.'

'Ooh, d'hear that lads? He says we'll blunt the knives.' Mouthing along with Bofur, Emi felt adrenaline course through her veins, as she prepared herself for one of the greatest lip syncs of her life.

_Gonna make Mama Ru proud. Cue internal fist pump._

**'Blunt the knives, bend the forks,**

**Smash the bottles and burn the corks,**

**Chip the glasses and crack the plates,**

**That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!'**

Plates flew past her in every which way and direction, and her eyes followed them with eager fascination, utterly in awe at how casual this elaborate display of talent was. Her earlier anger at the dwarves for the ruining of Bilbo's home melted away in the heat of the kitchen, a strange warmth filling her to the core, and infusing her with a feeling of home.

_Granted I haven't spoke a single word to any of the dwarves since I've arrived, and I doubt any of them have even noticed I'm here, but still, I already feel as if we're family._

Wiping away imaginary tears at the thought, she realised that in her musings she'd missed the next verse of the song. Crossing her arms in frustration, she prepared herself for the next one, determined not to miss it.

**'Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl,**

**Pound them up with a thumping pole,**

**When you've finished, if any are whole,**

**Send them down the hall to roll…'**

Her amusement could not be contained as she clapped along to the beat, peals of laughter escaping her like rays of sunshine, and she doubled over at the sight of Balin's face, as he joined in, reluctantly, with the antics going on around him.

**'That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!'**

She jumped up as the song reached its end, and she cheered along with the dwarves. Walking over to where Bilbo now stood, his face morphing from anger to confusion in record time, she placed her hands on his shoulders and smiled encouragingly at him when he turned to face her. This seemed to calm him, because she felt his shoulders sag a little, and if Emi could capture this moment forever in her mind, she would. But, like all good things, they must end too soon, and in the case of this moment, it ended when three loud bangs echoed around the house.

Emi felt as if there had been a shift in the universe, the previously merry and jovial dwarves falling silent, and the atmosphere dampened considerably, like children being caught by their mothers doing something they shouldn't.

'He is here.'

The low, gravelly tone to Gandalf's voice caught Emi by surprise, and she suddenly realised that her grip on poor Bilbo had increased tenfold, so she removed them immediately and apologised quietly, to which he simply laughed and waved her off, claiming he hadn't even noticed. The wizard shared a knowing glance with Emi, confusing her slightly. Of course, she knew who was on the other side of the door, and what that meant, but she didn't have to do anything yet, did she?

_Well, I suppose I have to earn his approval to join the quest. Le sigh, I can just see he's going to be a dick about it. Maybe I'd get away with it if I pretend to be a boy? I mean, it wouldn't be that far-fetched, I have the short hair, and my chest is practically flat. Cri._

'Gandalf.' A shiver rose up her spine at the voice. It was a deep rumbling sound, one you associate with powerful things, like thunder, and she decided that he very much suited the title of 'King Under the Mountain' simply because he sounded as though he should be.

_Seriously though Richard, you must have been on steroids to get your voice that low, because that is just scary. _

She felt herself being moved suddenly, as the dwarves scurried forward to greet their King, Bilbo being stuck in front of her, and she had never felt so out of place. It didn't help of course, that she towered above the rest of the current company, and she couldn't exactly hide from Thorin when his piercing gaze was turned in their direction.

A movement was felt by her legs, and a coldness crept up them, and she realised that Bilbo had pushed his way to the front of the group, coming to stand beside his door.

'Mark? There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!'

Emi watched in amusement as the wizard huffed at the hobbit, his hands placed on his hips.

_Someone's a sassy little snowflake. _

'There is a mark; I put it there myself.'

Gandalf straightened, well as much as the small house would allow, as if he'd suddenly remembered his purpose for being there, and he gestured over to Thorin before introducing him, and the whole scene reminded Emi of a young boy inviting his female friend over and introducing them to the family for the first time. She stifled a giggle behind her hand at the thought and found a few pairs of eyes on her before they returned to the guest of honour.

'So, this is the hobbit?,' a small bubble of annoyance rose in her throat as she watched the dwarven royal push past Bilbo, and her mouth twitched in disdain, 'Tell me, Mr Baggins, have you done much fighting?'

'Pardon me?' her heart ached for him, as his face took on a look of bewilderment, and she longed to pull him into a hug and never let go.

_He's far too precious a cinnamon roll._

'Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?' Thorin had made his little circle of Bilbo, obviously sizing him up as he did so, and Emi could see in his eyes that he was far from impressed. She crossed her arms.

_Just you wait Oakenshield, Bilbo _will_ prove you wrong. _

'Well, I have some skill in conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant.'

_Too precious, must protect. _

Her maternal instincts were flaring up, and while she knew Bilbo was more than double her age, she felt deep within her an urge to grab him and take him somewhere safe.

_Ugh, this is so much harder than I thought it was going to be. In the movies, you know you can't interfere, but here, I can actually do something, and it's becoming increasingly more difficult _not_ to whack Thorin upside the head. _

'Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.'

The dwarves around her laughed, and it was at this point that Emi had had enough.

'Ha! Ha! Ha!' She had only let out three sarcastic laughs, and maybe a couple of slow claps, but it was enough to turn all of the attention on her.

_Shit._

Her face took on a red hue, her outburst sincere, but her shyness catching up to her. Still, she wouldn't back down, even if she did end up saying something stupid. Thorin's icy stare found her own grey orbs, and she decided that it didn't matter how tall you were, you could be just as intimidating when small.

_Maybe in the future he can give me some tips. _

'And who, pray tell, is this?' He cast a quick side glance to the wizard, which meant Emi did not have to answer, something she was relieved for.

At his question though, she found every pair of eyes in the house on her, and she determined that the only two _not _staring at her as if she had two heads, were Gandalf and Bilbo, the only two, she surmised, she had actually had a conversation with.

Stepping forward to save her from her impending embarrassment and humiliation, Gandalf placed an arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards him slightly.

'This…is Emilia Hunter. She is the woman I was talking to you about.'

Thorin blinked in surprise.

'This is the woman? I am sorry, I must admit that I had mistaken you for a boy.'

Emi's face deadpanned, and she replied much the same way.

'Don't worry about it, happens all the time.'

He stepped forward, and began scrutinising her, and she suddenly felt bare beneath his gaze, her nose crinkling slightly in discomfort.

'So, I must ask you the same question. Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?'

Blinking owlishly at him, she pondered her options.

_Axe or sword? Axe? Or sword? Hmm…_

'Sword.'

Thorin let out a small chuckle at the seriousness in her voice, before a full-blown laugh erupted from him, and Emi had to fight the urge to laugh with him, as she had the feeling that _she_ was the source of his amusement.

'My, my, my, a woman with a sword. Gandalf, wherever did you pick her up? If anything, at least we know that she is good for a laugh.'

Gandalf chuckled awkwardly beside her, as Thorin thumped her on the shoulder before making his way through to Bilbo's kitchen.

'Did I miss the joke or something? Or are we going to ignore what just happened?'

_I mean, I know he's being sexist, which is fair given the time period, but still, he didn't need to be such a dick about it. _

Emi rolled out her shoulder, the dull ache spreading from where the royal pain in her arse's hand had connected with her. The wizard sighed.

'I fear that the dwarves may not yet see the potential in the both of you, but that day will come.' And with that cryptic statement, he turned and set off in the direction of Thorin, which caused Emi to throw her hands up in frustration, before she pinched the bridge of her nose. When she heard a small shuffle beside her, she looked down to see Bilbo smiling at her.

'We'll show 'em, right Bilbo?'

The hobbit had no idea what she was on about, but there was a fire in her eyes, and he felt compelled to agree with her, so he nodded his head and was relieved when her face broke out into a grin.

She hooked an arm around him in a sort of side hug and used her other hand to ruffle his hair.

'Atta boy.'

And with that they set off for the kitchen, and the beginning of the adventure that awaited them.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**alldefandoms **


	5. In Which Thorin Is Downhearted

_**"The most dangerous thing **_

_**you can do in life **_

_**is play it safe"**_

_**\- Casey Neistat**_

* * *

When Thorin had arrived at the house of Gandalf's burglar, he had not expected something so…homey. There were flowers, and vegetables surrounding him, and had it not been for the mark on the door, he would never have said that this was the place he was looking for.

'Though, I suppose, that that is the point of a burglar. To remain inconspicuous in plain sight.'

With that thought, his hopes were lifted a little. Perhaps this burglar would live up to the name the wizard had given him, and perhaps his quest would not seem so far-fetched. Knocking on the door, thrice, he waited rather impatiently for it to open. He was hungry, and he was tired, and his journey to this place had not been easy. It pained him to admit it, but he had lost his way, twice, something he was not at all pleased about. But again, it gave him hope for this burglar, because if he couldn't find this place, then surely his enemies would fail as well.

A sudden light cast over his face, and he realised that the door to the house had been opened, and he prepared himself for whatever person lay behind it. What he did not expect, was the wizard. His chest deflated, a little miffed that it had not been the burglar to open the door, for it was him with who he wanted to meet, but he bowed his head in respect all the same and told him of his trip.

Walking into the home, he was immediately surrounded by heat, and golden light, and he felt put off by the whole thing. Glancing over to the left, he was relieved to see that his company had made it safely, but he was surprised to see a man, nay a young boy, standing there, looking completely out of place. Removing his large cloak, he placed it gently onto a peg, barely registering the conversation that was going on behind him, as he cast a wary look around the house. He decided again that it was far too homey for his liking, and when he turned around to find the wizard standing beside a rather jolly looking fellow, his heart dropped at the sight, and his breath caught a little in his throat. Surely this could not be him, he looked much too innocent of the world to be a criminal. He appeared as though he'd have trouble talking about you behind your back let alone to your face.

His booted feet stomped forward, as he regarded the person in front of him, his arms folded.

'So, this is the hobbit?,' Eyes flickering back and forth over him, he wondered what it was the wizard saw in him, 'Tell me, Mr Baggins, have you done much fighting?'

A look of confusion passed over the hobbit's face, and any dwindling hope he had left, was crushed in an instant. An anger flushed through him, how could Gandalf think that this naïve boy would be of any use to him on his quest? It was a lost cause as it was, he did not need it becoming a laughing stock.

Thorin was becoming increasingly impatient once more, and when this…Bilbo answered with something about conkers, he had had enough of the games.

'Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.' There was a hint of malice in his words, for he had not waited so long, and lowered himself to such menial tasks for the past years, to be met with this hobbit.

'Ha! Ha! Ha!'

Whipping his head round at the rude sound, he found that it had come from the skinny looking boy he had seen earlier. His company had parted, allowing him to see fully this stranger.

'And who, pray tell, is this?'

His eyes glanced over to the wizard, suspicion evident within them. Gandalf had caused him enough torment tonight, just how much more was there to throw at him? His eyes followed him as he moved to stand next to the child, and they narrowed slightly, encouraging him to speak before he lost his temper.

'This…is Emilia Hunter. She is the woman I was talking to you about.'

Now that surprised him, and he found himself eyeing hi-her up and down. The hair and small frame had thrown him, and he began to notice things he had not seen before. There were small hips framed by her leather trousers, and he could see the faintest outline of bumps on her chest, which could only be seen if that was what you were searching for. Her eyes, he decided were much too round and doe-like to be considered male, and her lips looked soft and plump, and he marvelled at how he hadn't noticed her before.

'This is the woman? I am sorry, I must admit that I had mistaken you for a boy.'

He could see the annoyance flash over her face before resignation replaced it. It was obvious then, that others had made the same error, and he felt less guilty about it.

'Don't worry about it, happens all the time.' Her voice was soft, but he noted a strange roughness to it, and her accent was foreign yet familiar to him. It was if when heard the first time it sounded like something, and then when heard the second time, sounded altogether different.

Stepping forward, he observed her again, and found himself picking up on things he hadn't noticed previously. Her eyes were a strange colour, green but grey, as if someone had tried to mix the two colours, but had failed completely, and so they fought for dominance, a swirling pool that he supposed most men would become entranced by. Her nose was small and slender, but with a snubbed point at the end, and her cheeks were full. A face, he thought, that did not belong in the company.

When Gandalf had told him of a woman joining his quest he had called him a fool. What use would a woman be? Would she sew up their clothes if they ripped open? Would she cook their meals for them? These were all things they could do themselves, though with some difficulty, so what need was there for one? The wizard had simply told him that she would be a great asset, and that he should trust in his decision. At the time Thorin had simply scoffed, and now, with her standing before him, he realised he had been right. With the way things were going tonight, he would be leading a bunch of court jesters into Erebor, and the dragon would perish from laughing too hard.

'So, I must ask you the same question. Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?'

It was a question designed to test her character. Just what kind of woman was she? Why did Gandalf put so much faith in her, and when she looked at him strangely he deemed himself doomed, never again to see the splendour of his homeland.

'Sword.'

She couldn't be serious, could she? She actually thought her twig like arms could carry a weapon of any kind? He chuckled, and then he glanced at her face, and he bellowed, his laugh filling the small room.

'My, my, my, a woman with a sword. Gandalf, wherever did you pick her up? If anything, at least we know that she is good for a laugh.'

He never thought that he would live to see the day. Walking past her, he merrily clapped her shoulder, his spirits lifted again, and he made his way to the kitchen of this madhouse.

A grocer for a burglar, and a woman with a sword. Just what would Mahal throw at him next?


End file.
